


I'll Do Anything

by klutzyelf



Series: It's A Mess [1]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dorks in Love, Everyone is a nerd, Fluff, Gen, Humor, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Pokemon - Freeform, Pokemon GO - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-13
Updated: 2016-07-13
Packaged: 2018-07-23 17:27:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7473087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/klutzyelf/pseuds/klutzyelf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>...to catch this Pokémon.</p><p>In which Marius drowns, Courfeyrac babbles, and Combeferre's ass is better in the daytime.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Do Anything

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by lesmiserablol's tumblr [post](http://lesmiserablol.tumblr.com/post/147142868825/combeferre-and-courfeyrac-meeting-when-they-run)  
> Combeferre and Courfeyrac meeting when they run into each other in the middle of the night at some obscure location trying to capture Pokemon.

This is mostly Courfeyrac’s fault. Marius would tell him that it’s usually his fault, but Marius literally almost drowned for a Staryu two seconds ago and there was really no reason for that. So since Marius is sopping wet and still trying to breathe, Courfeyrac is going to admit to himself and himself alone that this is his fault, but maintain that he did nothing to deserve it, and ignore the fact that every event leading up to this moment was more or less avoidable.

Courfeyrac had downloaded the Pokémon Go app first, and in roommate solidarity (or rather, a few hours of Courfeyrac enthusiastically shoving his phone in his roommates face and gushing excitedly) Marius had dutifully followed. In the beginning they’d mostly hung around their apartment building, because it was such a prime location: five minutes from town, and right next to an empty field with sunflowers taller than he was. Pokémon showed up every couple of meters and grinding for PokéCoins wasn’t all that difficult. 

It was fun. The kind of fun that he’d had when he was a sticky-fingered kid on his GameBoy. The music was great, the graphics were colorful, and watching Marius try to aim a Pokéball was hysterical. The nostalgia factor hit him hard enough in the chest that he wanted to go and buy as many of the games as he could, and Marius almost did until reality had set in and they had to pay rent, but seriously screw reality anyway. Point being, Courfeyrac was having fun, Marius was having fun, and presumably the Pokémon were having fun, so the only natural course of action was to keep playing thereby continuing to have fun. 

Six days was more than enough time for an incident to occur. Frankly, an incident was well overdue since no one actually got caught trying to catch a Mewoth while hanging upside down from Mr. Porter’s balcony. Both he and Marius spent so much of their valuable free time playing that new Pokémon were an increasing rarity, and it was to Marius’s great distress that they began to venture further and further outside of town to find rarer and rarer Pokémon. However, there is something to be said for immersive and engaging gameplay, because the lure of the app proved to be too strong for even Marius’s caution.

Really, they both should have known better. Neither of them would be here if they hadn’t downloaded the app, or played obsessively, or if anyone had remembered that Courfeyrac’s sense of direction was about as shit as Marius’s dating history. Nevertheless, these highly avoidable scenarios didn’t play, and now they are both stuck on a beach (“I didn’t know we had a beach,” Marius had said, and Courfeyrac had been surprised as well – beaches were things people tended to notice) in the middle of god knew where, at like two in the morning.

Marius looks forlornly at his waterlogged phone. “It would have been worth it,” he says.

“There was literally one in the Boerne Fountain the other day,” Courfeyrac retorts. “You didn’t have to go and die for this one.”

Marius pouts but must ultimately agree since he says nothing in his own defense. There’s water dripping from his nose, and at least seventy-nine percent of him is covered in sand, and he honestly looks so sad that he didn’t get to die for this Pokémon that Courfeyrac suddenly cannot stop laughing. This is ridiculous; this whole situation is absolutely ridiculous, and it absolutely would have only happened to them.

Marius tries to brush sand off of his cheek but only succeeds in smearing it across his lips. “You would’ve done the same thing and you know it!” he sputters between spitting out sand, which okay, fair enough; Courfeyrac would absolutely have done the same thing, (and really there could honestly not be a more fitting marker for his life than “Died trying to catch ‘em all!”) but the difference really lies in the fact that he can actually swim.

He doesn’t bother to point any of this out, choosing instead to turn his attention back to the Pokémon Go app and flick through the menus for a few minutes while Marius sorts himself. His battery is getting dangerously low, a thing that hadn’t been a problem before because Marius had just charged his. Now, however, he doesn’t think Marius’s phone is coming back to life anytime soon, so they’re stuck trying to navigate their way back home on the phone with only ten percent left and no decent GPS.

And according to the game there’s a Horsea nearby.

-:-

Going after it is a bad idea. He knows it and Marius knows it and Marius protests vehemently. Nevertheless, Courfeyrac makes Marius park his sandy ass further up the beach to mark where they parked the car so that Courfeyrac can proceed, in a careful, near-silent half-crouch, to the rotting dinghy a hundred feet away. 

He’s not entirely dumb. He’s conserving battery where he can: the brightness is turned all the way down, the volume is muted in case that helps, and he made sure that there aren’t any other apps running, but as he sidling up next to the boat phone aimed steadily at the Pokémon his battery drops from ten percent to five. 

Fighting the urge to swear – like making sudden noise would cause the Horsea to attack, or run away, or something equally startling – he throws three Pokéballs too quickly and misses. His fourth one goes wild and off to the side, his fifth one lands directly behind the damn thing, and just as he’s about to rage quit for the sake of his battery life the sixth one sucks up the light-blue creature, shakes three times to give him a heart attack, and then the word “Gotcha!” flashes up on screen.

Courfeyrac springs up from his crouch with a victorious roar. He jumps high in the air and flings his arms out wide intending to spin in a few circles just because he can and his raised fist smacks into something.

There is a startled screech. 

He spins around just in time to lock gazes with a dark eyed stranger before they trip ass over teakettle into the dinghy.

-:-

The strangers name is Combeferre, and even though the only light comes from their half-illuminated phones Courfeyrac thinks he’s the most gorgeous man he’s ever seen.

Seriously, if this isn’t love at first sight then he doesn’t know what is.

“Are you sure you’re okay.” He’s fluttering nervously around Combeferre, trying to determine whether or not the other would be receptive to Courfeyrac touching him. Not that Courfeyrac would know where to go after that, but he feels as though being able to give a comforting touch would go a long way toward helping him calm down.

Combeferre’s white teeth flash in a reassuring smile. “It’s no big deal, really.” He bends down to brush off his pants, and Courfeyrac entertains the thought of helping him before realizing that that would be weird and that Combeferre is now dusting off his ass and oh that has the potential to be a very nice ass in the daylight. “I’ve had much worse.”

Courfeyrac snaps himself out of it. “I punched you in the face over a Pokémon.”

Combeferre is still smiling. “It was an accident, you didn’t know I was there. I didn’t know you were there. Congrats on the catch, by the way.”

“Uh, thanks,” he stutters. “I still feel bad about it though. Really bad. Can we offer you a ride back? I feel like I need to make this up to you.” By now they’re both kinda sorta moving back in the direction of Marius and the car, like neither of them know if they’re supposed to be following the other, and Courfeyrac knows he’s babbling.

“Actually, if you don’t mind, that’d be great. I don’t live that far away, but it’s super late and I walked here so…”

Courfeyrac nods quickly. “No problem.”

Their steps become more purposeful and they make their way to Marius in silence. Courfeyrac’s roommate stands up wearily when he notices that Courfeyrac has caught more than just a Pokémon. The salt water has begun to dry his hair into uneven spikes and his clothes are still soggy, so if he’s trying to look like he’s prepared for (kind, gorgeous) Combeferre to be a malevolent presence he ends up looking more like a startled, wet, bird.

“Marius, meet Combeferre,” he introduces. “I accidentally punched him in the face so we’re giving him a ride home. Combeferre, this is my roommate, Marius. I saved him from drowning for a Staryu earlier.”

Combeferre and Marius shake hands. Combeferre didn’t shake hands with Courfeyrac. Then again Marius didn’t punch him, so that might be something. He’s not jealous.

“We parked just up here,” Marius says slogging through the sand. It’s caked itself over his sneakers and up his ankles, and so help him Courfeyrac is making this boy strip before he gets in the car. “How’s the battery, Courf?” 

“I’ve got enough to look up where we are?” He’s got three percent left which is indeed enough to look up where they are. Unfortunately, what it isn’t is enough to give them directions back home.

“I’ve still got fifty percent left,” Combeferre offers, “I can look up directions for you if you’ve got paper.”

“Oh, thank god!” cries Marius.

Courfeyrac unlocks the car and makes Marius strip out of his shoes and jeans before getting in the back. He’ll be damned if he lets that much sand anywhere near the front seat, and if he coincidentally gets to sit next to Combeferre because of this well then that is just a bonus. With everyone seated and buckled, their address pulled up on Combeferre’s phone, Courfeyrac goes to turn the key in the ignition.

And nothing.

The lights are on, so the battery is obviously working, but the engine refuses to start. Courfeyrac squints at his dashboard and, yep, the fuel gauge is at zero.

Perfect.

He crosses his arms over the wheel, slams his head down on them, and whines pathetically into the crook of his elbow.

-:-

Combeferre calls his roommate to come get them.

It’s a short call. The roommate apparently grumbles at Combeferre’s sunny sarcastic tone, but asks no questions before agreeing. Marius thanks god again, flopping backwards in relief and shedding a layer of sand in the process. Courfeyrac makes him sit outside.

“So…” Courfeyrac says into the ensuing silence, “what’s your favorite Pokémon?”

The answer is apparently Mothim because Combeferre loves moths in real life, and that spirals the conversation from moth species, to ideal career choice (Combeferre is currently trying to put his way through med school), to school (they go to different universities), to their roommates (Courfeyrac shares the story about how he found Marius in the rain with all his worldly possessions in a garbage bag so he opened his apartment to him; Combeferre returns the anecdote with one about him and his own roommate, Enjolras, being assigned roommates freshmen year after Enjolras’s old roommate got caught dealing.), and the conversation flows so easily that Courfeyrac can’t remember the last time he’d enjoyed learning this much about another human being. 

Fifteen minutes later a red Prius pulls up next to them. At least, Courfeyrac thinks it’s a Prius; the paint is scratched to hell, and there are more craters in this car than there are on the moon. He can only just see into the cabin, and on top of the poor thing’s exterior it looks like it’s being piloted by a shag carpet.

“I didn’t think Prius’s could look like that,” he comments.

Combeferre shrugs as he climbs out of the car. “Enjolras…gets a lot of negative attention.” 

Enjolras turns out to be the shag carpet driving – a grumpy shag carpet with heavy shadows under eyes that only open halfway. He pops the trunk and retrieves a red gasoline container from within. Courfeyrac nearly cries.

“That is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” Marius scrambles enthusiastically up from the spot he’d chosen when Courfeyrac kicked him out and back into the car.

Enjolras waves a hand vaguely, eyes still closed. “Don’t mention it.” He shuffles around to the passenger’s side of the car, the hems of the sweatpants he’s wearing (too large to be his) dragging on the ground. “Combeferre owes me so much coffee for this. Expensive coffee Ferre,” he calls to his roommate.

Combeferre has taken over handling the gas container, pouring it into Courfeyrac’s car. “Fine, fine. I’ll buy you a seven dollar cup of coffee every day for the rest of the week.”

Enjolras shakes his head. “Month.”

“Fine.”

Courfeyrac chuckles (it’s not a giggle, nope) and follows Combeferre to the trunk of the Prius. “I’m so sorry about tonight,” he apologizes. “I didn’t even make up for punching you in the face.”

“It’s no big deal, really, but if you still feel that bad about it…” Combeferre roots around in the trunk for something, and hands it to him. “Here’s my number. Let’s catch Pokémon sometime.”

Courfeyrac swoons.


End file.
